


The Briefest Interlude

by human_wreckage



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16323137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/human_wreckage/pseuds/human_wreckage
Summary: "love's the sweetest feeling | openly believing | no matter what we find there..." - feistPart of the continuity of The Cruelest Punishment.





	The Briefest Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a companion to The Cruelest Punishment, and while I'm not above handing out smut with no plot _(see also: **penance** )_ I would at least like to point out in this/that continuity, Hans is a eunuch. Without further ado, please accept my many apologies and infinite thanks for morale boosts over the years this fic has gone unfinished.

They had been building up to this: this breathy exploration of one another’s naked forms.

            It was little bits at first, here and there. The biggest step had been kissing, of course, since the proximity of Hans’ face to Elsa’s caused a knee-jerk reaction of gilding the entire room in frost. Fear of hurting him ate through her better emotions until she did what she feared most—turned the heat in the room to cold in an instant. Elsa thought she was doomed to forever want what she couldn't have.

            Eventually, however, he caught her by the mouth in the streaming sunlight of a bright day, mid-laugh, and the press of his lips to hers just felt so… right. There was no fear, just warmth.

            Where did it come from, to love him like this? Slipping into friendship was as the slide of melting snow off a leaf: increments at first and then all at once, _plop_. Having dropped into the warm ocean tide of respect and love was a long run off a shorter cliff—but this… desire? To have him closer than anyone had ever gotten? She didn't know; she cared only that he wanted her in just the same way.

            Now, they pressed in close, her clothes and his clothes flung from the bed by hands that had no patience for that anymore. He ran his hand down one hip and cupped the curve of her leg, tongue on the seam of her mouth. There was less to be done by her own hands, and yet more by far. She smoothed her fingers over the mess of scars that covered his back, up his shoulders, down arms that had been marked with burns intermittently. He let her, and his trust in her kept his own fear dissolved. Hers were hands that had been kind, were gentle, and were electric in their ability to excite him.

            He had it in mind to make her come with his name on her lips.

            The trail he followed wound down her front, between the peaks that rose and fell with every open-mouthed kiss along the route. Pulse hammering in the leg he draped over his shoulder, Hans pressed his mouth to her, tasting the coolness of her, marveling at the shake the action sent through her core. Elsa’s hands encouraged him, threading into his hair. She moaned and he was encouraged—they were untouched by the cold that was turning the sheets to glittering gossamer. Her control was only extended as far as he was on their bed.

            Hitching, Elsa’s reaction to the deep plunges and hot kisses made it obvious that she was close. In a matter of seconds, she was tensing and then coming apart. It was a spectacular burst of her power across the room, but also the shuddering muscles of her core, and a face that looked in rapture. His name had eluded her, he noticed, but her own name eluded her. If her orgasm momentarily reduced her to a primitive, wordless state, then he was nameless by choice.

            Wit returning sharply, Elsa drew him up to her, kissing away at the mouth that had tasted and teased her, aware that the coolness of his lips came from her; it stole his breath. She broke their kiss to look him in the eyes, telling him without speaking how much she wanted to return the favor. He was breathless with pleasure just to have taken her to such great heights, but he would let her try. Hans wanted her to try.

            She did all she could to find that erogenous zone left to him and win him his own throe of pleasure, every touch an exploration of sensitivity. He was surprised to find that his neck and the lobes of his ears happened to be those zones. She rubbed against him while she nipped and sucked and kissed him into a stupor the likes of which he hadn’t ever been in. The tension in his back broke with the friction of her to his front, his hips jerking with remembered release. It felt so good, _so good_. If his torture was one thousand nights of the coldest winter, Elsa had rose as the sun to give him the brightest spring.

            Winding down afterwards were soft words and sweet kisses. Hans held Elsa close, transcended upon touching the sun with her. All that melted the wax from his metaphorical wings was the sense of having been cheated; a life such as this could only occur in the way it had, but he was just gluttonous enough to wish he could give her more. Settling his unhelpful wishful thinking back into the place it had tumbled from, he stroked her back and let contentment ease him to a happiness he had never known.

            They fell asleep under the sheets, wrapped in each other's arms.


End file.
